many, many years ago. I had been shooting all day, and it started to rain. Not thundestorm, Arizona like rain, just a quiet little drizzle that seemed to float to ground instead of raging. We turned the street and stood under a little awning. It was a jazz club (long since forgotten the name) and we heard some strange music coming from inside. My assistant said it sounded like the piano player was pounding the keys with one finger. He was. We went inside where the manager was kind enough to let us stow our cameras and gear in the relative safety of the behind-the-bar-table. Monk was in rare form that night. (At least I like to think so, cause it was the only time I ever saw him.) His solos were long, tightly woven and exhileratingly abstract. The drummer spent most of his time grinning at Monks back in real admiration. Bass player was someone famous, but I cannot recall his name. There were maybe 60 people in the club and it was packed. We stayed for three sets, spent a ton of money on liqour and stumbled out into the fog grinning like fools. He played Monk's Blues at the end of the third set. It played in my head for 30 years... plays there still. This is a great little video, and captures Monk's playing better than anything I have ever seen. Enjoy.
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